I can still remember a very long time ago,
When my sister and I would go to the picture show.
To get there we had to go for a ride on the local bus,
On the floor was something which always caused a fuss.

A large thick white line plain for everyone to see,
But its true meaning back then never got through to me.
I could never go pass the line; I had to stay in the front,
My grandmother would scold me and was very blunt.

"Child, you stay up here with your own kind,
You don't need to be back there, you will be fine."
I thought back then maybe somehow I had been bad,
The lasting impression it left on me is still very sad.

My friends were giggling and having so much fun,
I felt completely all alone, what had I done?
I never thought my friends were different than me,
But the color of our skin was the difference you see.

How I longed to be with my friends back there,
All of them having so much fun without a single care.
The exciting thing was to see where you had been,
To look out the back was the most fun with a friend.

Why are all the grownups making such a fuss?
My little friends all looked to me like the rest of us.
They had two arms, two legs, two eyes and a nose,
And I'm sure a heart was there under their clothes.

The sad part about this story is even to this day,
It's at the front of the bus where I now seem to stay.
Did they realize what they were doing back then?
When I was not able to sit in the back with a friend.

God never did have a favorite color you know,
Because if He had there would never be a rainbow.
Together we will all make it through thick and thin,
But it should never matter the color of our skin.

© Brenda Sparkman
February 2004

Midi Playing: "Colors of the Wind"